Chapter Summary - Hangovers and parleys don't mix - Loki has vanished back to Asgard, again, leaving Tony with instructions to find a way to fix their problems. Not the easiest thing to do when you have the hangover from hell. And the Father-in-law to match. A Stark InterGalactic One Shot, taking place the day after Anthony of Asgard ended, but it can be read alone.

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Welcome to Stark Intergalactic, a series of One Shots in the Queens Grace 'Verse. I don't guarantee that they will be posted in order, I will try, but no promises. However, once they have posted, I will go back and slot them into the time line where they belong.

This one shot starts the morning after Loki's disastrous returned return to Asgard, and can be read alone.

Starting premise - After years of putting up with each other when Loki was a memory washed prisoner incarcerated in Stark Tower during the Queens Grace story, Tony finds he misses the God of Mischief once he's gone home. Tony misses Loki's snark, looks and intelligence... He misses them a lot. So in Anthony of Asgard, Tony hatched a cunning plan to form a civil union with the Trickster. Odin, looking for some way to develop a handle on Loki's behavior agreed. For a price. A big price. But while their relationship moved past the friendship stage, cultural differences and only seeing each other once a month caused numerous problems. Serious problems. Resulting in Loki, giving Tony an ultimatum to find a way to resolve their misunderstandings before they began to hate each other.

The first half of this was Beta'd by the wonderful Stella. And then I changed stuff... And added things... So any mistakes are a my bad.

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SIG - Hangovers and parleys don't mix

Twenty four hours after Loki left, Tony was still upset. In addition to the major cultural Punji pit he had just fallen into, or to be more honest, had thrown himself into head first, he was now battling the Mother and Father of all hang-overs. Which was pretty unfair since he hadn't even drank that much. Or at all really, at least not by his standards. His head was hurting so bad he was afraid to check his blood pressure, his mouth had a horrible copper tang that no amount of tooth brushing could get rid of, and every time he moved, he thought he was going to hurl, and he ached all over. And no, he was not getting old.

So, being Tony Stark, he did what he always did when upset; he went out, got drunk, and had mindless sex. Well, he did drink, mostly soda trying to calm his upset stomach. But in the first one at least there had been a splash of something else in it. And he did have a last ditch 'mindless sex gets rid of headaches' thought. In passing anyway, more out of old habits than anything else. But not even his inner masochist was up for guilt laden bouncing around with a complete stranger. Besides, as bad as his head felt right now, walking slowly was all he could do without wanting to hurl. But, he did go out. It was his terrace, but it still counted as 'out' as far as he was concerned.

And that was how Thor found him. He was lying on a chaise lounge, in the shade of the terrace's party pavilion, clutching a drink in one hand and the pendant Loki had gifted him in the other. A small table to his right, held a bottle with a few extra-strength aspirins left in it, and a thankfully still empty emergency puke bucket. On his left sat a champagne stand, complete with a two liter bottle of Canada Dry Ginger Ale surrounded by ice. Well, half of a two liter bottle anyway, or at least a quarter. Additionally, there was a chill pack on his forehead that wasn't helping him one damn bit.

"STARK!" Between the angry shout and the sky above crashing and rumbling several times from the Thunder god's displeasure, Tony couldn't help but cringe, as it felt like splinters of glass were being driven into his brain.

Once the noise died down, Tony swallowed hard and managed to get his nausea under control enough to speak. "Oh, good. You're here," he said in a faint thready voice. Not really moving any more than he had to, Tony tipped his head back a bit, looking out from under the ice pack that was partially covering his eyes. That Thor was pissed, was not really any kind of surprise. His anger was apparent in the tone of his voice, the stormy scowl on his face, and the grumbling clouds gathering overhead. And of course the fact that it was to be expected, since however inadvertently, Tony had sent baby bro back home, with more than a few bruises. And not just the kind you get from overly enthusiastic happy times.

"Come on, Maxwell, do me a favor will you? Make with the hammer and put me out of my misery."

But Thunder Britches, rat bastard that he was, didn't grant Tony a swift and merciful death. Instead Mjölnir cracked paving stones, as Thor sat her sharply down, as sort of an added exclamation point to his Bro-In-law's unhappiness. However, something in Tony's voice or appearance caused the thunder god to lower his brows as much in thought as in anger.

"How's Jane?" Tony asked distantly. Not that he really cared, but he was trying to be at least a little polite. If only in gratitude that her place at MIT, must have been where Thor had powered down to Earth at, rather than the landing pad on the other end of the roof. So yeah, Tony can at least act polite since he was pretty sure the noise and light from the Bi-Frost connecting to his roof would have killed him.

Not, that Thor didn't look like he wasn't going to do that eventually, Tony observed. He was almost looking forward to his impending demise, since it would at least mean the end to his guilt and misery. And hey, he'd already dug his own grave. That would save them the effort, so that had to count in his favor at least a little bit, right?

"Jane is fine," Thor growled darkly, "Loki, however, is not."

"No?"

Tony was unable to decide if that new pain spike he'd just experienced was from his headache or the remembrance of Bambi's previous visit. "Please, tell me he went to see a healer first thing?"

Tony took the angry jerk of Thor's head as an affirmation that his god had received medical attention. He sighed, closing his eyes, relieved that at least Loki had been taken care of.

"As you know, there was a bit of a screw-up here the other night. I mean, no sense trying to lie about that, right? And I won't blame you one bit if you smack me upside the head with MewMew over there."

Tony re-opened a bleary eye to regard the incensed blonde before him. "But when you're done? Do me a favor, will ya? Smack your damn father for not warning me about what would happen if I pulled Snape's magic."

Tony took another cautious drink, but then hastily set the glass on the side table. The ice bag slipped from his forehead, as he grabbed the small bucket and held it under his chin. Swallowing hard, Tony grimaced, as his raw throat reminded him of the hours he'd already spent throwing up. With every bit of will power he could muster, and several deep breaths, he managed to keep his still, very upset stomach from rising up to choke him.

But only just.

Regarding him with narrow blue eyes, Thor impatiently asked, "Tony? How much alcohol have you drunk today?" The god turned the green plastic bottle so he could read its label, raising a brow in puzzlement when he determined that its contents were not alcoholic.

"Well, I feel like I guzzled a whole barrel of your damn Viking mead," Tony swallowed as just the thought of that stuff made his stomach turn over, "But truthfully, buddy; the last drink I had was when your brother and I went out to dinner with Pepper the other night." Tony shifted his grip on the bucket, so he could pluck up a very crumpled serving towel that he'd stuffed beside him on the chaise. He used it to wipe the sweat dripping down his temples with a shaky hand.

"This," He flapped the napkin vaguely towards himself, "This is a magic hangover," Breathing slowly through his mouth, Tony rolled his head bonelessly, so he could turn bloodshot eyes towards Thor. "Just between you and me? I don't give a flying fuck if your brother decides he wants to turn everyone in the Nine Realms into chickens. I am never, ever, pulling his magic again."

"You pulled Loki's magic?" Thor frowned, "Why? What mischief was he up to?"

Tony rolled his eyes.

Seriously?

As long as Thor had known Tony, he just automatically assumed it was his brother stirring the shit? And not Tony? Of course, it might be because he had known Loki so much longer. After all, a god of mischief and chaos had to have racked up a serious reputation for starting crap.

Just not this time.

"Actually, Lassie, I was the one up to mischief," Tony made the feeblest 'air quotes' in history, because those are hard to do when you can't move. It was my turn to choose… stuff. And I did it as a damn stupid joke."

Tony rolled a jaundiced eye towards the large blonde, and concentrated on his breathing for a few minutes. Amazingly, Thor just stood there waiting patiently for him to continue. Granted, he still looked pissed, but at least he wasn't yelling or anything. After a bit, Tony gently rested his head on the back of the chaise and continued. "Anyhow, his fucking mo-jo made me as high as a god damn kite when I pulled it, no inhibitions, a fucked up time was had by all and then it gave me the worst hangover I've had since I was twenty when I gave it back."

Tony huffed, "And trust me, it was up against some stiff competition, including the times I had to be rushed to the hospital to have my stomach pumped."

Hey, he was rich, he was reckless, he drank excessively, and yes, in his younger, dumber years he had done more than his fair share of recreational drugs. Some pretty serious ones even that he was lucky to have survived… But try as he might, Tony could not remember any booze or drugs that had fucked him up as completely, and as sneakily as Loki's magic.

In the years to come, Tony would always shudder at the remembrance of how hard he had crashed, and burned once he'd managed to figure out how to push Loki's mo-jo. He was glad of course, that his godling hadn't gone back to Asgard totally defenseless without any of his powers. But he was sorry that he hadn't known enough to be seated before doing so. The damn magic voo-doo shit had no sooner left Tony's body, than he'd felt like a marionette with its strings cut, dropping in a heap on the hard stone floor, unmoving until Pepper rolled him over, screaming for help. Just one more reminder, that he really did need to install some thick plush carpeting over his marble floors. What with as many times as he seemed to have face planted into them lately.

At any rate, Thor decided not to bash Tony's head in. Something Tony was sure he would have appreciated more, if he hadn't been half looking forward to death distracting him from his regrets, and various aches and pains. Fatal blows aside, Tony had expected a lot more bellowing. But the Thunder god felt it would do no one any good to yell. Especially, since Tony's condition meant he wouldn't be paying much attention to anything Thor said anyhow.

"It makes no sense to yell at you when you can barely hold your head up," The blonde muttered, proving that he really had matured over the last decade. Instead, he refilled Tony's glass with ginger ale. And later at Jarvis' suggestion, he passed Tony a few saltine crackers to nibble on, in an attempt to get something in the engineer's stomach, that would stay down.

Who brought him to this Tony wondered. He was not arguing that he had done it himself of course. But, who was the instigator? Who fucking planted that god damn landmine of an idea in his head?

"Thunderbird, when you are done seeing Janie, I am going back up to Fairy Land with you." Tony's attempt at making this an authoritative statement, were stymied by his inability to point his index finger without it trembling. As well as the bits of cracker that had stuck to his dehydrated gums, crumbs of which, sprayed out every time he tried to speak. "I need to speak to All Daddy, sooner rather than later."

But before leaving to continue his flying visit to the Lady Jane, the Asgardian did agree to set up an appointment for Tony to see his Odin-ness as soon as he arrived on his next monthly visit. By which time, the All King would hopefully have decided not to incinerate his annoying Midgardian Son-In-Law.

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While Tony had consulted with Pepper on what paperwork to take with him, he adamantly refused to allow her to accompany him this time. Odin was not, in Tony's opinion, a particularly forgiving god. And Tony didn't want Pepper caught in any in-law crossfire. As an added precaution, they had even sent the paper work to the All Father three weeks before his next visit. Mostly in the hopes that Odin would review it ahead of time, and send them notice of any changes he might want. Not that he had, mind you. But in addition to a heads up on any changes, Tony also wanted to give Odin time to spaz, and get over it before Tony actually got there. And if his proposal caused too much of a meltdown, something that was more than likely, there was the possibility that Thor or Loki could warn him of any inbound smiting heading his way. Okay, perhaps Thor would warn him. Because for all Tony knew, Loki might very well be tossing highly justified Dixie cups full of lighter fluid at Odin, hoping for a higher flame.

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High above New York City, seventeen packing crates of various sizes were arranged on the intricate knot pattern delineating the Bi-Frost's landing zone. Standing beside them, impeccably dressed in a dark blue pinstriped suit with his sunglasses firmly in place, Tony looked up, calling out to the heavens.

"Yo' Heimdall! Beam me up!"

As usual, unlike when Thor accompanied him, he had to wait several minutes. And as usual, just as Tony's patience was about to snap, a thunderous rumble accompanied by a searing bolt of light shot down and snatched him up.

Unlike the first time he beamed aboard U.S.S. Assgard, Tony didn't stumble or get sick or anything. Hell, he's gone through the Wormhole Express enough times now, he merely took an extra half step to catch his balance, patted Heimdall's arm and then looked around for his ride. Since he'd made sure to put enough product in his hair that not even the Bi-Frost couldn't muss it, all Tony had to do was adjust the knot on his pale yellow tie, straighten his cuffs, and he was ready to take on the so-called, Protector of the Nine Realms.

Kvasir and Nerthus, two of Loki's guards, were of course waiting for Tony just outside the observatory. Nerthus immediately began directing the accompanying servants to start loading the crates onto a sky barge. From past experience, he knew that everything would be stacked in his palace apartment, long before he gets done talking with Odin. Except, of course, the crate marked with the large gold Masonic Eye of Providence. That one, would be discretely delivered to Heimdall's house.

With a final check, to make sure there were no scuffs on his highly polished black dress shoes, Tony stepped up into the sky skiff. He made himself comfortable as Kvasir smoothly turned it around, heading for the Palace.

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Despite, this being the fourth time that Tony has waited to be ushered into Odin's inner sanctum, it still wasn't getting any easier. The One-eyed Dude was freaky scary, and he had a dungeon complete with potentially sadistic guards. So, how could anyone standing here not be terrified? Standing, of course, being an important part of that last thought. Because, of course, no one who came to the All Father's private lair was allowed to sit while waiting for him. At least not without Odin's express permission. However, Tony was a smooth faced, smooth talking, inspired faker. A skill honed by the many times he'd had to face down irate Boards of Directors, not to mention livid congressional inquiries.

At least, when he was testifying before congress he was allowed to sit and be comfortable while he waited, Tony groused internally. Swaying slightly, he kept a discretely wary eye on the golden guys with the big honking swords that were flanking him.

"Why?" Odin asked a short time later as he sat in his demi-throne. And it totally was a mini-me version of a throne, being much too resplendent to be just a chair. Unlike the much plainer one that Tony had finally been allowed to sit in.

Big and burly and of course poker faced, Odin gestured to his copy of Tony's new proposal. "I cannot help but notice that everything in this document has already been covered in our previous agreement. Can you give me a good reason why we are revisiting it?"

"And I can't help but point out that I can't get to know how Asgard works, and what is, and isn't important, with only being here one and a third days a month." Tony narrowed his eyes a moment, but then shrugged and made a face. "Well… Technically, only one and a third days every other month. This means, of course, genius though I may be, I make tons of mistakes. And worse? Nine times out of ten, I have no flipping idea that what I'm doing is even a problem until it's already too late. And trust me, pissing off Reindeer Games is not the way to get him to agree to anything. Let alone settling down and playing nice like you want him to."

"Humf." Odin leaned back, no doubt easing various pressure points on his cos-play armor, and regarded Tony with a shrewd stare.

"And if I say no?" Odin's one brow raised in inquiry.

"Well… If you are trying to make sure Loki never has an anchor, you're certainly going about it the right way." And no. Tony did not imagine the 'pot calling the kettle black' vibe Odin was pumping out. Even if the old dude did have a poker face that almost made Tony want to take him to Vegas someday. Wouldn't that be quite the family outing? It was so fraught with disaster that Tony was really, really tempted. Sort of. If only to get everyone's mind off own his recent screw-up.

"Okay, so maybe I messed up a couple of other times too, but that isn't the point right now. This time I messed up because I am clueless about Asgard. I messed up bad. And maybe this time I can fix it, but what about the next time? Or the time after that? Eventually, I am going to screw up so bad or so often he won't have anything to do with me. And you know what? I'm not okay with that. I can try harder on my personal screw ups, but I don't want to take the fall for not knowing what does and doesn't fly in O-Shining- Asgard."

"You will not be able to take care of your company if you spend so much time in Asgard. Nor your many other responsibilities."

Without conscious thought, Tony's head dropped down so his chin was resting on his chest. "With all due respect," He rolled his eyes up, once again looking at the King of Everything from underneath raised brows. "Why don't you let me worry about that?"

Loki wasn't stupid. And he had warned Tony that he couldn't take much more drama. And truth be told, Tony was about hitting his own limit there. Hell, with the way they were forced to live now? He and Loki would be damn lucky if they lasted out the next decade before they imploded.

"This was not what we agreed to." Odin's voice was mild as he pushed the document an inch or two away from him, before he lacing his hands together over his armor clad belly, fixing an interested look on the upstart little mortal across from him.

Tony felt a deep calm descend upon him. For the first time in two years, one way or another, within the next few hours even, he would have a pretty fair inkling of how this whole partner thing was going to play out.

Good.

It did not escape Tony's notice that Odin was studying him intently.

"You're right it wasn't." Tony's fingers tapped a complicated rhythm on his own set of documents, ending with a light double palm slap. "But I honestly wasn't aware of just how much I needed to learn about this place to keep from screwing up." He huffed ruefully, but still tossed a small self-effacing grin Odin's way. "Look, you want him engaged and staying out of trouble. I can do that. But not, with only a handful of hours a month. We can't go on like this. Rather than keep screwing stuff up, and ending up hating each other, I'd rather just stick a boatload of cash in a trust for him up here, and do the same on Earthgard, and stop renewing my rune."

And that, amazingly enough, did get a reaction out of Odin. It was a small one, a bit of the flaring nostril thing, but still.

"With my heart, and the way I push my luck, he'll be a rich widower in no time. And then, prisoner or not, he'll have a couple of nice trust administrators to take care of his monetary needs." Tony's smile widened. "And then how much of a problem will he be for you?"

Before Odin could even reply, still locking gazes with the elderly god, Tony slapped another sharp staccato on the table. Then he grinned, borrowing, of course, a little of Loki's patented crazy god look as he did so.

"Besides. Even if you agree, there is still a chance he won't. In which case, it's Hasta la vista for me, and best wishes for Asgard's newest trust fund baby."

And that, Odin did not like at all.

The cranky one-eyed god scowled at Tony for several long minutes. "Perhaps," Odin husked with gritted teeth and a wintery little smile that never reached the light in his eye, "In return for a concession or two, we could change a few things."

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I will let reader enthusiasm decide if anymore of this story gets posted or if it is finished. Currently I am kicking around a few ideas for a FrostIron 2015 Bang, and a few short stories that I have wanted to work on for a while.

As always comments and reviews are greatly appreciated, even if it is a simple I loved YYY, or ZZZ confuses me. They let me know which part is catching your attention.

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I don't own the Avengers or Thor, they are the property of Marvel and Disney, and are not my intellectual property. There is no financial gain made from this nor will any be sought. This is for entertainment purposes only.

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